It was Monday night, and Matthews had awoken from a nap and was playing with his dog when he noticed he had missed a call from a blocked number. There was an accompanying text message. It was from McMillan. It simply said: "Call me."

Matthews had a feeling what was coming. He figured he might lose his starting position. The Blazers had hit a rough patch, and one of the reasons was his shot hadn't been falling.

"Honestly, deep down. I expected it," Matthews said.

He was right. When he called McMillan, the coach told him he was losing his starting job to Nicolas Batum. But while Matthews could accept his decision, he couldn't accept his coach's reasoning.

"He talked about a 'lost edge.' I think that's what bothered me. That's what bothered me the most," Matthews said. "He felt like I lost my edge. But my edge don't come from starting. My edge comes from me wanting to be better than I was yesterday."

Matthews temporarily regained a spot in the starting lineup Wednesday and Thursday because of LaMarcus Aldridge's ankle injury. Still, five days later, the phone conversation with McMillan burns inside Matthews.

It was a 10-minute conversation. McMillan did almost all of the talking.

After he hung up, Matthews seethed. He was angry. Hurt. Confused.

"I think I had every possible negative, uncertain emotion," he said.

Almost immediately, he scrolled through his phone and made a call, then looked for his car keys.

Edge. I'll show you edge ...

•••

It was a peaceful Monday night at the home of Hersey Hawkins, who was flipping through channels watching television on the couch with his wife, Jennifer, when his phone rang.

It was Matthews.

Hawkins is the Blazers' director of player programs, a wide-ranging job that in general involves mentoring players. A 13-year NBA veteran, Hawkins has always had a special bond with Matthews since picking him up at the airport when Matthews signed a $32.5 million free agent contract in the summer of 2010.

It was about 8 p.m. when Matthews called. He was short and to the point: "Text me your address and I will pick you up in an hour on my way to the gym."

Coach Kaleb Canales was also summoned to the Tualatin practice facility and before any balls bounced, the three talked. Matthews says he can best relate to them because Hawkins and Canales know more than anyone else how hard he works. Like his conversation with McMillan, it was one-sided. This time, Matthews did most of the talking.

Matthews said he felt like his being replaced in the lineup made it look like he was the main problem. He talked about knowing he could be better. And he talked about feeling like every shot was magnified because of his recent struggles.

Hawkins listened. When Matthews was done, he told him to be a professional. To control what he could control -- to continue to work hard, continue to fight. He reminded him that one of the main reasons the Blazers went after him was for his toughness and all the intangibles he brings.

"Don't let that slip," Hawkins said.

It was 9 p.m., and the practice facility lights were flickering on. So too was a fire inside of Matthews. Edge. Lost my edge. Starting is not my pinnacle. I want to be an All-Star. All-NBA. All Defensive. Edge. I'll show you edge.

For two hours, they stayed in the gym. It was mainly a clear-your-head session, and much of the play was light-hearted. But Matthews knew it was once again time to prove people wrong. Just like when he did when he went undrafted out of Marquette, only to end up starting for Utah. Just like when people balked at his big free agent contract with Portland. Like he felt when McMillan named Brandon Roy a starter before training camp even began.

Last month, in a conversation about another teammate, Blazers co-captain Marcus Camby mentioned that nobody on the team works harder than Matthews. And Matthews said he has taken only two days off in his two-plus seasons in the NBA – one because then-Utah coach Jerry Sloan told him to go home and rest, and the other this season, when the practice facility court was occupied by a dance competition.

"Am I playing up to my capability right now?" Matthews asked. "No. But it's not effort. It's not an edge."

Yes, the Blazers had just squandered an 18-point lead and lost their fourth consecutive home game. But for the third consecutive game, he had seen signs of the old Wesley Matthews. The one who celebrates a three-pointer like a gunslinger. The one who wrestles balls away from opponents. The one who dives for a ball between two players and calls timeout as those players tug at his arms.

McMillan has been looking for a spark, and he thinks he might have found one.

"As I'm sitting here looking at making changes, there's some guys who can handle it, and there are some guys who can't," McMillan said. "And if there's a guy on this team who is going to say, 'OK, I'm better than that,' it's Wes. And the last few games he has played that way."

There were reasons for his decision. He thought Batum could help the team's poor rebounding. He thought Batum could get out and run with Gerald Wallace, perhaps kick-starting the sputtering game of point guard Raymond Felton. But more than anything, he thought taking Matthews out of the starting lineup could restore that lost edge.

"I told him it wasn't a demotion, that he was still going to play, and he was still a big part," McMillan said. "And I basically talked to him about his edge — that he needs to play with that — that's how he has made it in this league and why he's been successful. Of course, he hasn't lost all of it, but I think sometimes when you have achieved, you kind of lose it."

Five days later, Matthews still bristles at that word. Edge. I always have it. Never lost it.

Maybe not. But McMillan knows one thing: Almost immediately after his one-sided conversation with Matthews on Monday night, McMillan got a text message. It was from Matthews.

McMillan said he smiled. His wife, Michelle, was in the room while McMillan was talking to Matthews. She heard everything he told his player. So McMillan went to her, still smiling, and showed her the text.

"What he texted me was: 'I'm going to be a professional. But I haven't lost my edge. I'm not going to lose my edge whether I'm starting or coming off the bench.'